Oh so often we apologize
Just to make amends,
Or avoid being chastised
We effort find portend,
Till failing begs apprise
We seek impede condemn,
Fated waning enterprise
Of which we learn contend,
As time gorges on our pride
That leaves but dust to mend,
With a soupçon of recall guise
For the loss of once held friend,
With otiose apologies to expiate demise!
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
Not for a life time
But of time alive,
Fate holds be mine
To explore demise,
As nature’s design
Of erudition drive,
For a human assign
In a complex devise,
Be suspect durability
That we want define,
Ceding be its brevity
Ought facilitate mind,
For its one only life
In a scant fix of time,
Has man ever puzzling
Till he realized best not find,
He was born to indeterminate end
With longevity be as fate so inclines!
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
Not now inferred,
Tho better now
Than never,
Having heard
That life won’t wait,
For proclivity defers
To coherent state,
With time’s demise
Means but forsake,
While one holds blindly
As master of time’s fate,
Hence to indulge full taste
Ideates point in time repeats,
Thus feigns replace life he wastes
Before that final bow it takes!
ode to the never fully present…
The death of youth
Be not easy
To grasp as truth,
Destined must
Be so replaced,
Rendering thus
An altered state,
Though dispiriting
As youth’s fate,
Means be alive
If not beyond,
Ineluctable demise…
Hence youth’s adjust
To deal with age
Be hardly just,
Made so compose
With dwindling days,
When point but reached
Life’s ordained way,
Be yet blurred concern,
To grasp the death of youth!
You’re of a mind
Life starts betwixt,
Somewhere in time
And place defined
Where being exists,
In advent reached
Of evolutionary feel,
Where light gives sway
To ontogenetic mind
Would recognize real,
To but later lament
Man fails realize,
Exploited be his demise!
You search to find
Elucidation
Thru insouciance,
That might explain
An anxious thought
Of held emotion,
Said fills the heart
Of hollow feelings,
Thus begs express
Departures
That so creates,
An empty space,
When you have gone
So far beyond caress,
That I can’t reach
Where you did fill,
This awry empty space!
Poetry on a canapé 